Aeylin
by PoeandCrash
Summary: This is a story about a girl, brought up by her aunt and uncle, who lives in a tavern. This is a story about a girl, who thought she was moderately normal, and was very wrong.


Chapter 1: Hope, Home, And Tavern

_We are running through a field and he holds my hand. His hand makes mine sweat as we make our way through a field of wheat that is up to our chests. He leads the way, just as he always does. Always looking ahead to make sure that the way is safe for me, and clearing a path so that I may always come along. The sky is a crystal blue and it is as if there is nothing more for the eye to see beyond this field. The yellow of the wheat meets the sky in the horizon. I don't know where we are running to, but as long as I am with him, I know that I am safe._

_My path is blocked by him, as he stops abruptly and turns to me, his eyes rolling in to the back of his head. My body tenses in fear. He says to me, "Aeylin, he is coming for us. Five days."_

I wake up in my bed. Sitting up abruptly as I gasped quickly for air. My head turns to the window, noticing that dawn has barely broken on the eastern sky. Immediately I look for him in the bed that lies next to mine. He is not in his bed. I rip the covers off of myself and run down the stairwell and onto the main floor. I make my way through the tavern, my bare feet pushing off of the cold wooden floor. Throwing the door of the tavern open I rush out to the barn, only to find him there.

He is practicing with is sword, as he does every morning. As soon as I enter the barn he turns away from his straw dummy and towards me, smiling. "Sister, I thought you would never awake."

"I had the strangest dream," I explained, moving towards him.

"Tell me," He pressed, placing his sword in his sheath and walking to meet me in the middle of the barn.

"We were children again," I told him. "Running through a field, like we used to. Only you stopped in the middle, and said something rather odd."

"What did I say," He asks.

"Something about five days until _he_ comes," I say to him while looking towards the ground and crossing my arms across my body. For the summertime, I was beginning to feel rather cold.

Bryant places an arm around my shoulder, leading me back towards the tavern with his momentum. "You need not fret, Aeylin. It was nothing more than a silly dream. It's not like you're prophetic."

"It wouldn't be the first surprising gift that I've ever been given," I tell him jokingly.

The first surprising gift that I've been given was my ability to read thoughts. It was a gift that I've had since I can remember. I shielded my brother off from my gift, knowing that he would always want the privacy of his mind. The members of my family are the only people that knew about my gift, and I was inclined to keep things this way. My brother and I may call my ability a "gift" but others would undoubtedly outcast me. They would be afraid of my ability, and scared to be around me. It seemed as if my brother was the only one who could actually handle the fact that I was special.

"Well, no. Definitely not," He says with a laugh. "Now, would you like to get ready before you go to town?"

"Town?" I ask.

"Aunt was meaning to ask you to run an errand for her, something about fetching a shield from the blacksmith," With the last statement he raises an eyebrow, and I moan in reply.

"She's trying to set me up again," I groan.

He gives me a crooked smirk and stops us outside the tavern doors. "I don't really know why you would be so upset about Aunt giving you a reason to go talk to the blacksmith's son. You're getting to be that age."

I roll my eyes at him. "Yes, I am quite aware that every girl in the known region must find a suitor by the time she is eighteen, and that is why I praise Hera every day for allowing me to be born only sixteen and a half years ago."

He pats a sympathetic hand on my shoulder in response, and turns back to the barn to continue his practice. Before he is out of range I yell at him, "You turned eighteen a month ago! Why not fret about your own marital endeavors!"

I sigh and open the door to the tavern, now clutching my gown from the cold. When I get inside and close the door behind me I look up only to find Aunt staring back at me. She has that look on her face again, the look like she was about to scold me about something. This time it would either be because I was wearing my clothing that was meant to sleep in, or because I was shouting about my brother's love affairs. Either way I looked at her with a sense of coy apology written across my face. I hoped that this would detour her from imminent lecture she was about to give.

"Don't even give me that look," She begins.

The lines of her tanned face looked just a bit more rugged than before. Her eyes worn at the corners, I would say from the glaring she constantly gives me, but I don't talk back to Aunt. Bryant and I always take our lectures, although it might be easier for him when he has so few in comparison. We do this out of respect for our Aunt and Uncle. They took us in when our parents died many years before without any complaint. They never made Bryant or me feel like we had a debt that we needed to repay, but instead put us to work as if we were their own children. That was something that we had to be thankful for.

"What are you doing walking out into the daylight like that?" She says throwing her hands up into the air dramatically. She closes the gap between us in a matter of seconds, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the upstairs. "I've told you a thousand times! You can't be going out into public in your night dressings! You have to at least appear to be a presentable young lady, the time of marriage draws near!"

Leave it up to Aunt to make a huge deal out of something little. Not to mention bringing up that "marriage" subject again. She always did this. Talking about how I'm to be wed soon, asking about boys around town. If I didn't know better I would think that she was more than desperate to be rid of me. Bryant on the other hand was told to take his time finding a wife, there was never any pressure placed on him. I was jealous of him in this fact, but never held any form of resentment towards my brother; he was all I ever really had. I knew that my aunt pushed me into these things because she had a desperate desire for me to be normal. She wanted me to lead the same kind of life that everyone else did, and pretend that I didn't have the abilities that I do. I understood this desire, sometimes I wanted to be able to live a normal life myself. I never asked for the this gift that the gods have granted me, but somehow I have to believe it was given to me for some purpose.

"I'm sorry Aunt," I replied. "I had a bad dream about Bryant, and I just wanted to see if he was alright."

"Hosh posh," She spat, shaking her head very vigorously. "Now get upstairs and get ready for the day, I have errands for you."

I sighed silently to myself and walked up the steps with my feet a bit heavier than they were before. When I reached my room I changed into my daily wares with the same struggle as always, and combed through my hair with my fingers. I pinned all my curls in the proper places and splashed water on my face. As soon as I was certain that my aunt would approve of my appearance I walked down the stairs gracefully. She was waiting for me at the bottom, as if she never left. Lying on her face was an approving smile as her eyes met mine.

As much as I hated the idea of my aunt sending me out to do errands solely because she wanted me to find a suitor, I did enjoy my visits to the city. I walked amongst the crowds of people, keeping my focus on those whoever's thoughts I wanted to hear.

At first I focused on my feet, as I walked from the tavern's front door. I wasn't exactly well-liked, and never wanted to greet girls' scowling stares with the friendly smile I tried to wear for them. They never seemed to return my smiles, but instead whispered hurtful things about the girl who rarely left the tavern. Little did they know I could always hear what they were saying, they might as well shout it all. I could never make those proper friends to discuss the new fabrics that have arrived, or the new makeup trend they had discovered. No, I was doomed to only make friends with the drunkards at the tavern; although friendly and interesting in their own right, they were not exactly what I had in mind. So I walked, with my head down until I was close enough to the blacksmith's shop.

I don't know why I even hoped that he wouldn't be standing there. He was, just as he always was and always would be: Ethan Thorne, the blacksmith's son. Upon seeing him, I immediately turned on my heels and began to march away from the open shop back towards the way I came. I bit on my lip as I heard the clanking of metal falling to the ground; he had seen me, I was too late. Instead of facing the greater embarrassment of running away I turned back to face him as he ran to reach me.

A warm smile spread across his dirtied face, emphasizing the whiteness in his teeth and his handsome bone structure. He had hair the color of wheat and eyes the color of the sky. I couldn't deny that he was the best looking man in town, and his known interest in me was beyond flattering. In spite of this all, I just never felt the spark that people talk about when they meet the right person. As much as Aunt pushed me to look upon his face and find a flame of infatuation, I looked and found none. She continued to tell me how honored I should feel to have held the interest of a blacksmith for this long. A blacksmith was a great husband to have, hardworking and strong. In a town as small as ours, he was by far the best choice of man aside from the lord that ruled over our village.

"Aeylin, how nice it is to see you," Ethan Thorne tells me as he touches my arm thoughtfully.

I curtsy, "And to see you."

"Why do you walk away from me?" He asks inquisitively, the smile across his face leaving to make way for a thoughtful expression.

"Well," I say, already fumbling with my words, and trying to think of some kind of excuse. "I thought I may have forgotten something at the tavern." I smirk at my quickly thought out lie.

"What might have you forgotten?" He inquires.

I hadn't expected the need for specific details, "Well, I think I already have what I need to get things from your father's shop, anyway."

He smiles again. "Of course, I'll walk you over."

We walk back over to the shop, and walk under its cover to stand amongst the anvils, hot metal, and armory. He stands proudly with his hands on his hips, admiring his own heritage before looking back over to meet my gaze. I've never been impressed with men that spent far too much time being impressed with themselves. As far as one could see Ethan was impressed with himself, and the work that he did with his father. I thought about looking into his mind to see what he was thinking. Then decided that his thoughts have never been very exciting; and sometimes a little invasive when he was staring at me.

I cleared my throat to break the uncomfortable silence. "Well, it turns out my uncle wants to decorate the bar with a coat of arms."

"Really?" He asks, placing one hand on his chin. "Your family's, I presume."

"Um, yes." I reply, trying to avoid an unmannered remark about the intelligence of that question. "Here is a picture of the engraving," I say handing him the paper that my aunt had given me earlier that day. "Do you think that it's possible for you or your father to do something like that?"

He grinned cockily, taking the piece of paper from my hand and admiring the design before answering, "My father and I can do this, certainly."

"Alright, about how long, and about how much do you think it will cost?" I ask.

Again he puts his hand to his chin, scratching it as if thinking deeply and looking to the ceiling. "Well," He finally says. "We can probably set you up for about twenty coins."

My jaw drops slightly before I catch it. "Twenty? That's far to few."

"No," he begins, moving towards me and uncomfortably grabbing my hand from my side and drawing it near to him. He appears to have what some might describe as passion in his blue eyes. "This I can do for you, Aeylin. I hope you will repay me with kindness in the future as well."

"Alright, well . . . That I will do," I reply, drawing my hand back from him, he seems unaltered by this, the same dull look of passion in his eyes. I move back slightly. "Well then, I must be going back to the tavern. You know how my aunt keeps me," I say with a slight smile.

Before he can reply I begin to move away from the shop and turn my back to face the tavern, completely disregarding the fact that I have another errand to attend to. My gut turns in that uncomfortable way that I get around Ethan, where I know that I should want to be with him and be kind to him, but I don't. It turns in that way where I know that we could have a chance at being dear friends if he didn't harbor such romantic feelings towards me. It had nothing to do with his appearance, or even the way he was. I just wasn't ready for anything romantic. I didn't want anything to do with men other than my family. Something about my home town of Oroville just never really felt like home, and I didn't think I would ever be ready to settle down until I found someplace that did feel like home. I didn't anticipate him following me along the way.

"Aeylin, wait!" He shouts, and I turn quickly, almost running into him to avoid making a scene.

"Yes, Ethan?" I reply quickly, wanting to get this conversation over with.

"Why do you avoid me in such a way?" He asks.

My stomach turns uncomfortably again. That was one question I never wanted Ethan to ask me. "Um, I don't, Ethan. I don't know why you feel that way. I come to you when my family has affairs with the blacksmith. Even stop by with my aunt when she speaks with your father."

"Yes, and all that is grand," he replies. "But you don't stop by to see me on your own accord."

My stomach was reaching the point of violence. "I—I still don't really follow what you're trying to say, Ethan. Why would I just pop in for no reason?"

"To see me," He answers, he has this hopeful look in his eyes that makes me feel even sicker.

I cut the conversation loose, "I have to go!"

As embarrassing as it may have been, I ran from Ethan Thorne. I could hear the thoughts of girls witnessing the scene go change from a seething and hateful to laughing and spiteful. They laughed at me as I ran from Ethan Thorne, and wished death upon me when his hand reached for mine to stop me from walking away from him. I wish they knew that if I could give away his admiration. I would.

Aunt was less than pleased when I returned to the tavern without the fabrics that she had asked for. She was even less pleased when she found that the reason I failed to do so was because I was escaping a conversation with Ethan Thorne. Her brow furrowed in the angry older lady way that said she was angry, but even more disappointed. I actually felt bad for not admiring Ethan the way that he admired me. I knew that it would probably make both our family's happier, but I could not make myself feel a certain way.

"I just—" She paused. "I wish that you could do something right—socially, because you're a dear around the tavern, you really are. But socially, you are lagging darling. Where are your friends? Ethan could bring you into the liked group in this town."

I listened to her carefully, deciding on whether or not to take the scorn or to stand up for myself. "Honestly, Aunt, I think that I would be hated more by the women if I did take a liking to Ethan."

She looked at me sternly, "Nonsense. Ethan is a fine boy, and by the gods I know he's chased. But winning the race will not make them admire you, not hate you."

Clearly Aunt did not know how things worked in the minds of others.

The tavern was slow tonight. I clung by the bar, the nearest spot to my brother and relayed my woe onto his deaf ears. He looked at me as if he was listening and considered what I was saying, but I know that he thought I was acting spoiled. It was obvious to even me that I had no right to complain about what any other girl would surely swoon over. The fact that I couldn't get it off my mind bothered me. I looked at my brother and saw him with his eyes glazed over in a tired mist, not actually listening to a word I said but instead nodding in appropriate places. Sighing, I shifted my weight to look around the empty tavern. My thoughts drifted elsewhere.

I had to pay close attention to my mind so that I wouldn't drift into another's thoughts. The only people in the room were those I loved, and I knew that I would scare my aunt and uncle if I had invaded their personal thoughts. Instead I began to relive the dream that I had last night. At the beginning it felt so nice, running freely through a field with my brother. It was a nice memory to reflect on. Until, that is, the moment where my brother had turned and looked back at me with his eyes rolling back into his head. My body shuddered at the thought. And what did five days mean anyways? "Aeylin, he's coming for us. Five days." What in the gods' names did that mean?

I tried to think of things that might be happening in five days. Maybe we were going to miss someone's birthday in five days and they would unleash a hellful scorn upon us. No one had a birthday in this month that I knew of.

Bryant laid his head down on the counter and looked up at me, the thudding noise caught my attention and I looked down at him, moving my arm that had been resting a little farther away from him. "What are you thinking about?" He inquired, his eyes seeking an escape from boredom.

I smiled slightly, "Just the dream."

"Your dream, you mean?" He asked. "The one you had this morning." He sat up a bit to rest his elbow on the counter and hold his head up with his palm.

"Yes, my dream. The one where you say, 'Aeylin, he's coming for us. Five days'" I answer.

"Who do you think it is?" His tone is playful.

"I don't think it's something to joke about, Bryant. Not this time. I have this feeling . . . "

By the third day my _feeling_ had washed away. The dream I had a day ago was nothing but a silly memory that was in the past. I had gotten a refreshing night's sleep, and I was up in the early hours of the day preparing to open the tavern before Aunt had awoken, which I knew would please her. I was hoping that she would find me wiping down tables and forget all about the trouble I had caused with avoiding Ethan.

"Don't think I'm going to forget so easily," She said as she climbed down the stairs gracefully, already dressed and hair tied up in a massive bun on her head as always.

I sighed. "Forget what?" I asked coyly.

She gave me a stern look that alone told me that I should already know what she was talking about. "Ethan," She said curtly.

"Why whatever do you mean, Aunt?" I tried to stretch out the innocent act as far as I could.

She sighed impatiently. "You avoiding him, Aeylin. I don't know how long it's going to take for you to finally realize what is best for you, and best for this family."

I sat down on a bar stool and immediately slumped into my seat, ready to take on whatever lecture she was about to throw at me.

"You can't go about like this," Aunt went on. "Wandering aimlessly with no purpose. A husband is going to have to become your purpose, dear. You're going to need someone to take care of you. You can't live with your Uncle and me forever, you know this don't you?"

"Yes, Aunt," I replied. "I just don't feel right about it."

She laughed rudely. "Ha! Feel right about it? What is not to feel right about? Somehow the most eligible man in the entire town picks you of all the socially awkward girls in this place to adore. And you are somehow unaffected by this admiration. Who better, Aeylin? The Lord Caelis, himself?"

"Aunt! You know I would never be so presumptuous as to say only his lordship could have me," I replied in an attempt to defend myself. "I just don't feel like I've met the man I'm going to marry just yet."

"Nonsense!" She shouted, her face turning red with anger. "I pray to the gods that you accept Ethan's proposal if he's ever stupid enough to present you with it. You stupid girl, you'll ruin yourself."

I lowered my head, not knowing how to answer to her. I hated disappointing my aunt and uncle more than anyone, but this was something I couldn't do. Or could I? I never considered marrying Ethan before, because it never really felt like the path I was meant to walk. But would I actually say no? If the opportunity ever presented itself, with my entire family in front of me, could I actually move myself to say no? _It would never happen_, I assured myself. _After the other day I'm sure that Ethan has forgotten about any lust that he has for me._

The next day it happened. As if Aunt had used the entire conversation we had the previous day to foreshadow my immanent realization of my fears. He stood in the doorway with the shield, silver and beautiful delicately crafted with our family's coat of arms. Ethan wore a grin across his face, a face that he had gone through the trouble to clean. I hoped for all I was worth that his new desire to clean himself before visiting had nothing to do with me. However, a deep turning in my stomach told me that I was wrong. When I saw him I immediately broke out into a deep blush, and I felt my hands begin to shake.

When he said my name, in that cheerful tone, my stomach began to turn. I felt a sharp jab to my side, given to me by my brother, hovering over me on the same side of the bar. He grinned knowing that I was excessively nervous. I looked to find Aunt and Uncle staring towards the door with bright eyes and smiles across their faces. They were all delighted to see him.

I gave him a lopsided smile with not even half my heart in it. "Hello, Ethan. Thank you . . . ever so much for delivering the shield to us. It has saved me so much trouble, although I never asked—"

"Ethan! Dear, won't you have a drink with us?" Aunt interrupted me before I could finish my statement about never asking Ethan to come to my house and make a personal delivery. She knew that it was a rude way to address a guest in our tavern.

My uncle approached him swiftly and took the shield form him with his strong arms, "My boy! Such magnificent work! Shall I give credit to you or your father for this masterpiece?"

"My father," Ethan answered, his eyes only leaving my face for a moment to smile at my uncle. They were about the same height now. When did he get so tall?

I watched as my uncle took the shield behind the bar counter and held it up to the wall as if to see where it would best fit. I noticed his dark hair was graying a bit more than the last time I had seen him and his belly had swelled. "This will look fine anywhere I put it!"

"Ethan, dear," My aunt said as she moved to gently grab his arm. "Come take a seat at a table, and tell me the coin that I may fetch for you?"

She moved to seat him at a table nearest to the bar. His eyes still lingered on my face, causing me to look near my feet shyly, but only for a moment. I had to make sure that Aunt wasn't going to do anything unreasonable. She sat him down and eyed my brother and eye, giving us a look that demanded we sit down at the table with Ethan. Then stood behind him to the right, staring down with her hands clasped together, waiting for him to tell her the amount that she owed him and his father for their work. My brother and I moved from our seats on the bar stools to pull up chairs next to Ethan as our aunt wished. I made sure to sit at an angle to him, trying to avoid making eye contact and physical contact as well.

"Well, twenty pence," He answered her, looking up at her to smile for a moment.

"Twenty?" She said in surprise. "Why, that's far too few."

He looked at her endearingly, and replied, "There is a favor that I have to ask of you, worth far more than what your shield cost."

The moment the words "a favor that I have to ask of you" slipped from his lips, my stomach felt even queasier. I felt as if I might be ill, but my aunt glowed in excitement. I saw her look at me slyly, squinting her eyes in a delighted manner and went up the stairs quickly to grab her purse. I felt as if I already knew what was going to happen in the moments drawing near; surely the event that I had hoped would never happen. Ethan was going ask me to marry him.

_How could this happen? _I thought. _I did everything I possibly could to detour him from this. I was rude, and I literally ran from him at the market. How could he do this to me? . . . In front of my whole family. _The fact that I had just recently been thinking about what I would do in this scenario struck me as ironic. It was literally the day before. _How could he have finished the shield so quickly, anyways? That was at least a week's work. Yes, his father was an amazing blacksmith, but this is just rash. Had he been planning this all along? For a long time? _My mind raced uncontrollably. I had no idea what I was going to do, and I could feel my mouth go dry the more I thought about it. Suddenly I realized that my eyes had been on the table for far too long and I wasn't paying attention to the conversation going on between Ethan and my brother.

"You're telling me that you're never going to trade that sword for a new one?" Ethan said enthusiastically, it figures that they would be talking about weapons, the one common interest that they had.

Bryant smiled. "Not for a long while, or at least until I find something that is better than this," he tapped the hilt of his sword lightly under the table and looked down at his weapon endearingly. "This was left to me by my father, and I don't think I will be able to replace it."

Ethan nods his head understandingly, his eyes looking over to me before making contact with Bryant's again and responding, "That is a commitment I can understand. Once you meet something great, nothing else can really compare to it."

I cringed as his eyes met mine with the last statement. I desperately hoped that he wasn't comparing my brother's feeling for his sword to his feeling about me. As my mind went back to a place of worry and my head lowered to the table once again I felt Bryant place his hand on mine. I looked up to meet his eyes, looking down at me with a touch of sympathy. _So he could tell what was going to happen as well? _I did appreciate the fact that he was distracting Ethan for the time being. Maybe he would forget about his proposal?

Aunt returned suddenly with the amount of money she owed Ethan, she handed it to him hastily pressing her hand on his in a firm grasp. "Thank you so much. You're a dear, Ethan. I hope you will join us for a drink as well, so that we may try to repay you in some additional way."

Ethan stood abruptly, placing the coins into a pocket in his shirt and staring at me. I watched him swallow, and brace himself to gather nerve. I looked to my aunt, as she clasped both hands together and stared at him in excitement. My brother's eyes undoubtedly widened, and mine closed. Although soon I realized that closing my eyes wasn't going to stop this moment from happening. When I opened them and looked to Ethan, he was already staring at me, like he had been doing since he walked through the doors of the tavern. He took in a deep breath before he began with his speech.

"Aeylin, ever since the moment I first saw you, although we were much younger and less wise, I knew that you were the girl I must have," He paused, an expression of his deep emotion I presume. "I do believe I know what love is, and I believe that you know it too. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife—of course after your eighteenth birthday."

My eyes snapped shut again. I could hear my aunt gasping excitedly, probably trying to hold back from embracing Ethan inappropriately. I felt as if I had lost my stomach for good, and it had been replaced with a tangle of knots. When I opened my eyes he was staring at me, grinning. As if he knew that I would immediately accept his proposal, as if he thought that I didn't even need to answer. He thought I returned his feelings of love? He was wrong. Almost immediately I felt as if I was going to cry, and almost began to when the realization hit me. I was going to _have_ to marry Ethan. Not because I was literally going to be forced to, or because I was compelled to by my deep emotions for him. I was going to have to marry Ethan because I knew that my aunt would never forgive me if I said no. I knew that I was a burden to my family as I was, and that I was never going to feel the way I wished I would about a guy. The perfect man for me wasn't going to come riding into town on a white horse, and I wasn't going to live an exciting life outside of Oroville. I was here, and I was here for good.

"Of course," I managed to croak out, glancing at Bryant long enough to see his face twisted with a mix of surprise, guilt, and sadness. I blinked back my tears and looked towards Ethan and Aunt. Both were beaming.

"Well then," Ethan said proudly before he knelt down next to me, still seated in my chair, and moved to take my hand from my lap and kiss it gently. He looked up at me before saying, "Then I will take my leave for today, and I will return tomorrow."

I could almost make out the smile through the back of his head as he walked through the door to the tavern. It was almost embarrassing how grateful I was that he left immediately after his proposal. The sick feeling in my stomach, however, did not choose to leave when he did. It only seemed to worsen when I looked at my aunt's glowing face. Even my uncle smiled down at me, he had moved to stand next to his wife in front of the bar with his hand around her, his brown eyes twinkling in delight. I did not want to look at my brother, but instead stood from my seat, wanting to retire to my room and knowing that they would not stop me now. I looked down at the floor, disgusted with myself.

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt said, forcing me to look up at her. I tried to hide the resentment in my eyes, not wanting to hold any grudge against her.

I slipped up in anger, allowing myself to penetrate her mind for long enough to hear "_Now she finally has a chance at a normal life"_, before I nodded and replied with a slight faked smile, "Thank you. Now if you don't mind, I would like to turn in."

Though I should have probably put more thought into the meaning behind my aunt's thought. I was too distracted by trying to stop myself from crying. Gripping onto the stair railing tighter than I usually would, I felt as if the short way up the stairs felt more like a trek than ever. As I ascended I felt someone grab my hand and make me turn to face them, standing two steps down from me. I met my brother's sympathetic eyes with my own, and sighed aloud pathetically, almost allowing myself to cry. I held my breath to stop myself and tore my hand from him, signaling that I needed some time on my own. Then closing the gap between myself and our room, I ripped the door open and shut it behind. I sat down on my bed and faced the outside wall.

I looked out at the night sky through my bedroom window, swallowing the large lump in my throat and blinking back the tears that were welling in my eyes. It was one of those skies; the one where sunset had just passed and the night was darkening but you could still make out the pinkish orange shadows of the sun in the horizon. _This is it_, I thought, _the moment when I give up a piece of me to let everyone else be happy_. My eyes were unable to block the tears, and I felt them begin to brim over. I had given away my beliefs that marrying Ethan would be wrong, just to make Aunt happy. Given away the last shred of hope I had to find love in this boring life. It was the right thing to do . . . Wasn't it?


End file.
